My family has a lot of inside jokes. "Whelmed" is one of them. Basically, if you aren't really OVERwhelmed, but are still coping with challenge, you're "whelmed."
On Friday, I was overwhelmed. Today, I'm just whelmed. See, I spent last week moving. Specifically, I spent it moving in with GB, my beau. And I'm not done yet. This is one of those moves where I had to specifically hold every little tiny hair clip, paper scrap, old T-shirt, etc, and decide if it was something I NEEDED TO KEEP. Then I had to look at it again and decide (if I'm not keeping it) HOW to get rid of it most effectively and responsibly (if I'm keeping it) whether it goes in storage or into the limited space of GB's 1-bedroom, no-living room apartment.
Plus there are two teenage cats with NO PARENTAL GUIDANCE living in parts of the house, and there's a hard-headed old alpha dog who MUST HERD CATS. So it's been a bit of a challenge carving out ways for MY cat to transition into the space. As it is, the cats are kept separate for now, but every time my kitty gets off the bed, the dog walks around a half-step behind her and looms with intent to play. She is not amused. Nor is she willing to offer up her butt for daily doggy inspection. The dog is very worried. Not only is he the only one in the household NOT allowed on the bed, but he hasn't gotten to sniff the cat's butt yet today.
The other two hellcats? A little after midnight they tried to jump from my computer keyboard across to the one 5x5 inch empty space on the top of my shelf unit. And knocked everything else off the top of the shelf in the process. Loudly. And if I ever CATCH them (this is not exactly likely-- they are very fast), they will LEARN not to mess with mama. sigh...
The good news is that GB fixed me a yummy breakfast yesterday morning, even tho it wasn't Sunday yet. And he's been very patient with all the boxes and stuff that hasn't found a home yet. Also, nothing broke when the hellcats rearranged my desk and shelf after midnight last night. And I have 25 pounds of fresh kittylitter in the passenger seat of my car. This is a very good thing. Especially since it's still in its litter bag, and I'll be able to bring it into the house later this morning.
And, can I tell you, for all the times I've gotten internet service, not once has it been simple to connect my Macintosh to the internet. There has always been a special fee or a special website that I had to visit and get special instructions. But last night? GB plugged in my Mac, plugged the other end to the router, and VOILA! I had internet.
Oh, happy day!
Ok. Have to go. Mobbed by two hellcats and a very concerned hard-headed old alpha dog. For all the immediate challenges, I can't help believing that this year is going to be a great improvement on 2009. It was such a relief for last year to END! So-- here's to a year that is merely whelming, and not overly so. With a lot of happiness and success mixed in.
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Sunday, January 3
Sunday, December 6
Purity Made Simple
I have a huge box of expensive face soap from Nordstrom. It's been sitting in my "extra toiletries" container for a year now, mostly because as soon as I invested in the 32-oz bottle, the darn soap stopped working on my acne. But I spent a lot of time and money making sure I had a great face soap, so I really don't want to throw it out. Even though I can't use it. Of course, these things are cyclical. I might be able to use it in another month or two. You never know.
I'm having similar experiences with many parts of my life just now. For example, as soon as I announced that I actually had full time employment with the Foundation/Farm... they ran out of money to pay me. But I spent a lot of time, energy, and gas money making sure the Foundation and Farm were as functional as I could make them, and investing myself in the visions and goals they espoused. So even though they can't pay me, I'm having a hard time letting go. And you never know-- they might be able to pay me again in a few months...
The face soap says "We come into this world with all the right instincts... and the world at large is truly beautiful. It is at this time we feel most blessed." To return to this natural state of instinctual well-being, the soap insists that "we must begin with the most basic step of all, the daily ritual of cleaning."
So here I am. Going through everything I own and figuring out what is dirty or just taking up space and energy without giving me any bliss in return. Cleaning up my life, a little bit at a time. I'm also job-hunting... again... and figuring out where I'll live come January. Because I can't afford the rent where I'm living now-- even if I do get another job. I have to use the bulk of my money paying off all the debts I racked up while I failed to make ends meet over the past four years. So a huge part of my process is cleaning up and simplifying my finances. Seeing a debt counselor. Talking about bangkruptcy. Finding ways to pay the people who can't wait.
The blessing that keeps showing up in my life is my friends. I feel so supported and loved. Over and over again, as my situation bounces up and down over and over again. It's amazing how many truly awesome people I know. And I don't think I'd have understood that (or had the same list of friends) four years ago when I thought the world was going to be my oyster.
The books have been the toughest thing to winnow down. And I know I'm not done yet. The first thing I did was decide I can only afford the space for one bookshelf right now. So all the books I'm going to keep with me, and all the things that sit on a surface and take up space, have to fit on that one bookshelf.
As I weighed the value of each book, and the space it fills in my life vs the space available on that one bookshelf, I realized that I don't re-read quite as many books as I like to think I do. Mostly, I think of many of these books as old friends, and it makes me feel good to see them sitting on the shelf because I found them so useful at one time. A bit like my face soap, really. So I keep them around just in case things change and I have a use for them again.
But at this point, the universe has hit me over the head hard enough that I not only suspect, but I KNOW that I have got to slim down and severely limit all the superfluous drains on my time, energy, and space. All the things that make me feel stuck or overburdened when it comes time to pick up and go yet again. I will probably rent a storage room for the things I know I will never be able to replace-- like the bed frame my parents slept in for 30 years, the bookshelf my dad made for me, and the boxes of books that I will actually consult occasionally, but don't need to lug from spare bedroom to spare bedroom over the next six months. I will probably sell or dump a lot of my extra toiletries-- things like that darn 32 ounces of soap that have been sitting around for the past year without ever actually being useful.
As part of the plan (while also applying for jobs daily), I'm going to consolidate everything into my room in preparation for the next big move. I'd like to know exactly what I own-- and right now there are boxes I haven't had the opportunity to open in over two years. It's a strange space to be in, knowing that if I had a reliable job and my own tiny apartment, I already own everything I'd need to be happy there... And finally admitting that just I don't have that, and may not have that for a while longer. Having to ask myself which of those beloved-but-currently-useless items are worth the cost (financial and energetic) of keeping.
I've come to realize that there are a few specific things that really contribute to my sense of contentment in a given living situation. One of those things is having and using my own kitchen gear. Another is having a workspace/desk that nobody else messes with. And being able to trust that my cat is safe, comfortable, and content whether I'm home watching out for her during the day or not. As I begin to condense both my living space and my finances, I also realize that there are two support systems that I need to KNOW I can always pay for-- my cat, and my cell phone. Abbigale cannot be replaced by other people's cats-- not the way I can use the computer in the library (which would still suck), or eat at a friend's table from time to time.
So here we are. Simplifying. Cleaning up old messes. Going back to basics. Realizing that while I prefer contact lenses, my glasses work just fine. Learning that "food stamps" are now referred to as the "SNAP" program. And they give you a credit card instead of a coupon book. Stocking up on rice and lentils because they are cheap and filling, and toilet paper because you can't buy that with the SNAP card. The times they are a-changing. I wonder how much money I wasted on that Nordstrom soap...
I'm having similar experiences with many parts of my life just now. For example, as soon as I announced that I actually had full time employment with the Foundation/Farm... they ran out of money to pay me. But I spent a lot of time, energy, and gas money making sure the Foundation and Farm were as functional as I could make them, and investing myself in the visions and goals they espoused. So even though they can't pay me, I'm having a hard time letting go. And you never know-- they might be able to pay me again in a few months...
The face soap says "We come into this world with all the right instincts... and the world at large is truly beautiful. It is at this time we feel most blessed." To return to this natural state of instinctual well-being, the soap insists that "we must begin with the most basic step of all, the daily ritual of cleaning."
So here I am. Going through everything I own and figuring out what is dirty or just taking up space and energy without giving me any bliss in return. Cleaning up my life, a little bit at a time. I'm also job-hunting... again... and figuring out where I'll live come January. Because I can't afford the rent where I'm living now-- even if I do get another job. I have to use the bulk of my money paying off all the debts I racked up while I failed to make ends meet over the past four years. So a huge part of my process is cleaning up and simplifying my finances. Seeing a debt counselor. Talking about bangkruptcy. Finding ways to pay the people who can't wait.
The blessing that keeps showing up in my life is my friends. I feel so supported and loved. Over and over again, as my situation bounces up and down over and over again. It's amazing how many truly awesome people I know. And I don't think I'd have understood that (or had the same list of friends) four years ago when I thought the world was going to be my oyster.
The books have been the toughest thing to winnow down. And I know I'm not done yet. The first thing I did was decide I can only afford the space for one bookshelf right now. So all the books I'm going to keep with me, and all the things that sit on a surface and take up space, have to fit on that one bookshelf.
As I weighed the value of each book, and the space it fills in my life vs the space available on that one bookshelf, I realized that I don't re-read quite as many books as I like to think I do. Mostly, I think of many of these books as old friends, and it makes me feel good to see them sitting on the shelf because I found them so useful at one time. A bit like my face soap, really. So I keep them around just in case things change and I have a use for them again.
But at this point, the universe has hit me over the head hard enough that I not only suspect, but I KNOW that I have got to slim down and severely limit all the superfluous drains on my time, energy, and space. All the things that make me feel stuck or overburdened when it comes time to pick up and go yet again. I will probably rent a storage room for the things I know I will never be able to replace-- like the bed frame my parents slept in for 30 years, the bookshelf my dad made for me, and the boxes of books that I will actually consult occasionally, but don't need to lug from spare bedroom to spare bedroom over the next six months. I will probably sell or dump a lot of my extra toiletries-- things like that darn 32 ounces of soap that have been sitting around for the past year without ever actually being useful.
As part of the plan (while also applying for jobs daily), I'm going to consolidate everything into my room in preparation for the next big move. I'd like to know exactly what I own-- and right now there are boxes I haven't had the opportunity to open in over two years. It's a strange space to be in, knowing that if I had a reliable job and my own tiny apartment, I already own everything I'd need to be happy there... And finally admitting that just I don't have that, and may not have that for a while longer. Having to ask myself which of those beloved-but-currently-useless items are worth the cost (financial and energetic) of keeping.
I've come to realize that there are a few specific things that really contribute to my sense of contentment in a given living situation. One of those things is having and using my own kitchen gear. Another is having a workspace/desk that nobody else messes with. And being able to trust that my cat is safe, comfortable, and content whether I'm home watching out for her during the day or not. As I begin to condense both my living space and my finances, I also realize that there are two support systems that I need to KNOW I can always pay for-- my cat, and my cell phone. Abbigale cannot be replaced by other people's cats-- not the way I can use the computer in the library (which would still suck), or eat at a friend's table from time to time.
So here we are. Simplifying. Cleaning up old messes. Going back to basics. Realizing that while I prefer contact lenses, my glasses work just fine. Learning that "food stamps" are now referred to as the "SNAP" program. And they give you a credit card instead of a coupon book. Stocking up on rice and lentils because they are cheap and filling, and toilet paper because you can't buy that with the SNAP card. The times they are a-changing. I wonder how much money I wasted on that Nordstrom soap...
Monday, September 29
Nu Nu Nu
The paint went up on the walls today! Special low VOC paint, in Apple Green. The glass shade on the torchier broke in my car on the way there, too, but that's beside the point. Turns out, somebody has two comfortable chairs sitting in her garage because they need a new home, too. So now they're going to be my client chairs. Awesome, but still not the point. The point is-- tomorrow I finally move into my new office. I'm so excited, I could sing. Loudly. Those old tunes they used to play really loudly at the roller rink on Thursday nights.
:"My-mymymymy Miiiiiyyyyy SHERONA!!... Take me on an- ESSSScaPADE...and Let your Body GOOO with the FLOOO, just do ihhht.... and ROCK around the CLOCK tonight, VOGUE!":
Yeah. THAT excited.
It's the funniest little space, too. The only square corners are where the wall meets the ceiling-- an ugly pock-marked drop-down ceiling with really evil florescent lights in it. Which will soon be covered up by a really nice natural cotton curtain I bought at IKEA. We love IKEA. We also love my new officemate with the two chairs for my clients, and my main officemate whose husband did the painting for me today, and the awesome Apple Green paint. Yes! We do.
So now I'm going to bed. So that tomorrow, when I get up, I'll be ALL SET to move into my NEW OFFICE!!!! YAY!!! (and paint a lot of dark green leaves on the walls and find a way to haul one of my bookshelves from my storage unit to my office and find all my packed books about alternative healing that are somewhere in that storage unit-- hopefully in the same place as my flannel sheets are packed. I'd really like to find a second set of sheets for my bed here sometime.) YAY!!
:"My-mymymymy Miiiiiyyyyy SHERONA!!... Take me on an- ESSSScaPADE...and Let your Body GOOO with the FLOOO, just do ihhht.... and ROCK around the CLOCK tonight, VOGUE!":
Yeah. THAT excited.
It's the funniest little space, too. The only square corners are where the wall meets the ceiling-- an ugly pock-marked drop-down ceiling with really evil florescent lights in it. Which will soon be covered up by a really nice natural cotton curtain I bought at IKEA. We love IKEA. We also love my new officemate with the two chairs for my clients, and my main officemate whose husband did the painting for me today, and the awesome Apple Green paint. Yes! We do.
So now I'm going to bed. So that tomorrow, when I get up, I'll be ALL SET to move into my NEW OFFICE!!!! YAY!!! (and paint a lot of dark green leaves on the walls and find a way to haul one of my bookshelves from my storage unit to my office and find all my packed books about alternative healing that are somewhere in that storage unit-- hopefully in the same place as my flannel sheets are packed. I'd really like to find a second set of sheets for my bed here sometime.) YAY!!
Monday, May 5
Spring Fever
So, with one rainy exception, we've had three or four days of warm sunny weather in a row. Didn't it snow just last week?! Not that I'm complaining. I'm just... WONDERING... is all.
Remember the horrid fly invasion of '07? The one where I finally discovered that a whole bag of potatoes had passed "rot" and gone right on to "sludge?" And had, in the process, given birth to a rather large number of little flies that NOTHING COULD KILL?! Yeah. I remember it quite clearly, actually. I ended up using the "kill-anything, but safe-for-your-home" bug spray to STUN the little buggers long enough for me to squish them-- individually. It took hours. Literally.
I'm not really big on killing other living things, but between the ant invasions and the flies, I've come to the handy conclusion that I have no moral problems with defending my home from invaders-- even little crawly ones. ESPECIALLY little crawly ones.
Well, not to bring up old pain or anything, but I recently had what seemed like the beginning of a new invading hoard-- horse flies. Those big metallic blue flies that are literally the size of your thumb-tip. Big. And, it turns out, LOUD. In fact, their ability to sound bigger than they actually are has become a bit of a problem. A really funny problem.
Every once in a while, we get airplanes flying past at night. And for a good minute before you hear them RIGHT OVER HEAD, all you can hear of the airplane coming is this droning rumble. It sounds EXACTLY like those dagm horse flies. And I've sat up and grabbed my rolled up magazine in self-defense more than once, only to realize I couldn't locate the fly because it was technically an airplane. Then there's my cell phone.
I got tired of forgetting to turn off the ringer every time I went to the library-- or forgetting to turn it back on when I left-- so I've just had my phone on "vibrate" for a couple of weeks now. I actually like the compromise. When I get text messages from my bank at 4am, I am no longer awakened every two minutes by a little "ding" to let me know I still haven't checked the message on my cell phone. I sleep through the "vibrate" noise quite well, really... Or I did before the flies came.
Finally this morning I realized that NO, I was NOT hearing yet another intermittent buzzing of yet another gigantic fly buzzing from window to window-- I was hearing the intermittent buzzing of my cell phone vibrating in my purse, telling me it was out of batteries.
In addition to all THOSE little coincidences of sound, the windows in my current apartment are single-pane, and rather old. Like, the house was built in the '40's old. So they just aren't much of a sound barrier. And there are flowering bushes right below the window. I'm realizing that I haven't actually been able to locate the flies that accompany the buzzing of the last two days-- the buzzing that wasn't explained by the cell phone, the airplane, or the neighbor's remodeling noises-- because I was hearing flies and bumblebees OUTSIDE OF MY WINDOWS!!!
I think maybe I can finally relax about the latest "invasion."
BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS REALLY GOING TO WRITE ABOUT...
With the latest natural invasion, I've had a sudden need to FIND THE SOURCE, which means doing a deep clean on my apartment. Luckily, it's Spring, so this would actually be the perfect time for such an action. Also, since about 80% of my belongings are currently in storage, I'm woefully unprepared for warm weather. I don't even know where my non-flannel sheets are packed. So, I'll be going through my tiny apartment and packing up anything I'm not using or won't need for the spring/summer months-- and then I'll be heading over to my storage unit, pulling every last thing I can lift out into the hallway, and sorting out the things I actually WANT to access.
I'll also be looking for any MORE stuff I can donate or otherwise get rid of with a light heart (I actually only kept 2/3 of my original belongings when I moved and put stuff in storage-- I've very little idea of what's left to begin with, really...) because my original packing job SUCKED, and I can't fit anything else into that storage space at the moment. This needs to change. It's a big space. And I want to have at least SOME access to the stuff I MIGHT need, but not every day, if you know what I mean.
Sigh.
Spring Fever is sounding rather painful this year.
I'd really expected to be moved into my next long-term home by now. This long-term limbo is really starting to wear on my good intentions (and my good vibrations-- the flies are just the tip of the ice berg on that one!)...
It's got to be at least as hard for my host family to still be living around ME as it is for me to still be living around them. I'm just so grateful that they gave my cat and I such a warm welcome, and that they haven't kicked us out yet. I guess it's time to start thinking up a new backup plan-- just in case I still don't have my future nailed down by midsummer. That would be pushing the welcome wagon a bit too far, even for me.
In the good news category, I've actually done a little yoga every morning for a week now. And all my creating fabrics have got an actual HOME, so there aren't mounds of crumpled fabric bits littering the floor and all available surfaces anymore. YAY! Also, uhhh.... I haven't needed to use the heater to keep my nose, toes, and rear from freezing for TWO NIGHTS now!! What a relief!! AND, I think I finally got my hands on my favorite version of one of my favorite all-time movies, Persuasion. OH! And I've been going for walks just about every day lately, so I feel like I'm doing the healthy thing fairly well. I'm really proud of that, actually.
So, hey-- let's end this on a good note. Maybe a C# or something...
Remember the horrid fly invasion of '07? The one where I finally discovered that a whole bag of potatoes had passed "rot" and gone right on to "sludge?" And had, in the process, given birth to a rather large number of little flies that NOTHING COULD KILL?! Yeah. I remember it quite clearly, actually. I ended up using the "kill-anything, but safe-for-your-home" bug spray to STUN the little buggers long enough for me to squish them-- individually. It took hours. Literally.
I'm not really big on killing other living things, but between the ant invasions and the flies, I've come to the handy conclusion that I have no moral problems with defending my home from invaders-- even little crawly ones. ESPECIALLY little crawly ones.
Well, not to bring up old pain or anything, but I recently had what seemed like the beginning of a new invading hoard-- horse flies. Those big metallic blue flies that are literally the size of your thumb-tip. Big. And, it turns out, LOUD. In fact, their ability to sound bigger than they actually are has become a bit of a problem. A really funny problem.
Every once in a while, we get airplanes flying past at night. And for a good minute before you hear them RIGHT OVER HEAD, all you can hear of the airplane coming is this droning rumble. It sounds EXACTLY like those dagm horse flies. And I've sat up and grabbed my rolled up magazine in self-defense more than once, only to realize I couldn't locate the fly because it was technically an airplane. Then there's my cell phone.
I got tired of forgetting to turn off the ringer every time I went to the library-- or forgetting to turn it back on when I left-- so I've just had my phone on "vibrate" for a couple of weeks now. I actually like the compromise. When I get text messages from my bank at 4am, I am no longer awakened every two minutes by a little "ding" to let me know I still haven't checked the message on my cell phone. I sleep through the "vibrate" noise quite well, really... Or I did before the flies came.
Finally this morning I realized that NO, I was NOT hearing yet another intermittent buzzing of yet another gigantic fly buzzing from window to window-- I was hearing the intermittent buzzing of my cell phone vibrating in my purse, telling me it was out of batteries.
In addition to all THOSE little coincidences of sound, the windows in my current apartment are single-pane, and rather old. Like, the house was built in the '40's old. So they just aren't much of a sound barrier. And there are flowering bushes right below the window. I'm realizing that I haven't actually been able to locate the flies that accompany the buzzing of the last two days-- the buzzing that wasn't explained by the cell phone, the airplane, or the neighbor's remodeling noises-- because I was hearing flies and bumblebees OUTSIDE OF MY WINDOWS!!!
I think maybe I can finally relax about the latest "invasion."
BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS REALLY GOING TO WRITE ABOUT...
With the latest natural invasion, I've had a sudden need to FIND THE SOURCE, which means doing a deep clean on my apartment. Luckily, it's Spring, so this would actually be the perfect time for such an action. Also, since about 80% of my belongings are currently in storage, I'm woefully unprepared for warm weather. I don't even know where my non-flannel sheets are packed. So, I'll be going through my tiny apartment and packing up anything I'm not using or won't need for the spring/summer months-- and then I'll be heading over to my storage unit, pulling every last thing I can lift out into the hallway, and sorting out the things I actually WANT to access.
I'll also be looking for any MORE stuff I can donate or otherwise get rid of with a light heart (I actually only kept 2/3 of my original belongings when I moved and put stuff in storage-- I've very little idea of what's left to begin with, really...) because my original packing job SUCKED, and I can't fit anything else into that storage space at the moment. This needs to change. It's a big space. And I want to have at least SOME access to the stuff I MIGHT need, but not every day, if you know what I mean.
Sigh.
Spring Fever is sounding rather painful this year.
I'd really expected to be moved into my next long-term home by now. This long-term limbo is really starting to wear on my good intentions (and my good vibrations-- the flies are just the tip of the ice berg on that one!)...
It's got to be at least as hard for my host family to still be living around ME as it is for me to still be living around them. I'm just so grateful that they gave my cat and I such a warm welcome, and that they haven't kicked us out yet. I guess it's time to start thinking up a new backup plan-- just in case I still don't have my future nailed down by midsummer. That would be pushing the welcome wagon a bit too far, even for me.
In the good news category, I've actually done a little yoga every morning for a week now. And all my creating fabrics have got an actual HOME, so there aren't mounds of crumpled fabric bits littering the floor and all available surfaces anymore. YAY! Also, uhhh.... I haven't needed to use the heater to keep my nose, toes, and rear from freezing for TWO NIGHTS now!! What a relief!! AND, I think I finally got my hands on my favorite version of one of my favorite all-time movies, Persuasion. OH! And I've been going for walks just about every day lately, so I feel like I'm doing the healthy thing fairly well. I'm really proud of that, actually.
So, hey-- let's end this on a good note. Maybe a C# or something...
Monday, January 21
...And then it was gone...
No shigt, there I was. Trying really hard to be loving and fun, and trying even harder not to laugh at something that shouldn't be encouraged... two days from the end to my second career as a nanny... with three hours of sleep under my belt, in freezing cold temperatures, in the middle of a move that included one car accident, (yes, the one you already heard about), one falsely advertised $19.99 for one day truck rental (try $69 plus gas), two parents, three sick friends, one person's first experience with a frozen pizza, a freaked out psycho cat, and a highly efficient group of people who could not believe that I didn't really want EVERYPOSSIBLETHING to get moved in one go...
When suddenly, the "Stinky Bum Brigade Truck" ran through the house, and it's little boy engine sounds like this: "PPTTHhhhhhhbbbbtttttt".... I had no idea there was such a brigade, but let me tell you that if ever there was, it definitely started and ended in a house full of diapers and solid foods, and it sounded just like that. And... well... I hope that little boy learns some spit-control in his fart noises, or else starts handing out napkins to innocent bystanders when he pretends to be this one particular vehicle. That particular engine noise looks and feels every bit as juicy as it sounds.
And in that moment of complete deadstop when I learned about the Stinky Bum Brigade Truck, and my mind went "...uhhhh...", I realized how very lucky I am. How many people can say they have six friends in one town who would come to their house on a cold day to help them move, while suffering from major head colds, sore throats, thrown out backs, and sundry other commitments and challenges-- and who would still love them after realizing just how "creatively organized" the packing job had so far been.
Then the moment was over, and I discovered that the youngest has added yet another word to her growing vocabulary. "toot" And a new song (my fault, actually, but I learned long ago that the trick to easy diaper changes is to distract-- so I sing, and encourage toy-handling and other sundry oddities during diaper duty)... I think it originally was a few bars out of the Music Man musical... "shee-poopy, shee-poopy, shee-poopy".... but it's just so darn appropriate sometimes!
I think I need to start spending more time with adults.
When suddenly, the "Stinky Bum Brigade Truck" ran through the house, and it's little boy engine sounds like this: "PPTTHhhhhhhbbbbtttttt".... I had no idea there was such a brigade, but let me tell you that if ever there was, it definitely started and ended in a house full of diapers and solid foods, and it sounded just like that. And... well... I hope that little boy learns some spit-control in his fart noises, or else starts handing out napkins to innocent bystanders when he pretends to be this one particular vehicle. That particular engine noise looks and feels every bit as juicy as it sounds.
And in that moment of complete deadstop when I learned about the Stinky Bum Brigade Truck, and my mind went "...uhhhh...", I realized how very lucky I am. How many people can say they have six friends in one town who would come to their house on a cold day to help them move, while suffering from major head colds, sore throats, thrown out backs, and sundry other commitments and challenges-- and who would still love them after realizing just how "creatively organized" the packing job had so far been.
Then the moment was over, and I discovered that the youngest has added yet another word to her growing vocabulary. "toot" And a new song (my fault, actually, but I learned long ago that the trick to easy diaper changes is to distract-- so I sing, and encourage toy-handling and other sundry oddities during diaper duty)... I think it originally was a few bars out of the Music Man musical... "shee-poopy, shee-poopy, shee-poopy".... but it's just so darn appropriate sometimes!
I think I need to start spending more time with adults.
Tuesday, January 1
Moving On
I've decided that Christmas Cards this year are a total wash. Just not on my top ten priorities list, and not likely to get there before February. Sigh. So I guess I'm saving myself some money for next year, right? Except next year, I had hoped to have time to MAKE my cards again, thus justifying some small portion of the ridiculous money I spent on stamps, paper, etc between 2004-2006. Oh, well. I think I really spent that money because it meant I could spent those four hours a month with a really cool group of non-military women. And for that, it was TOTALLY worth every penny.
In other news, I LOVE my new car. I haven't tabulated the gas mileage yet, but the fact that I was able to drive for something like five hours straight without going below 1/4 tank? Happy. I also find that I like being able to close the trunk, and know nobody can see all the crap I've stored there. And the 6 CD-changer is nice. And the built-in Blue Tooth capability. That's a new one on me. Built-in wireless phoning. On my steering wheel. But now that I've programmed in the voice-recognized phone numbers I'm most likely to call in heavy traffic (usually because that means I'm STUCK in heavy traffic, and going to be late), I think I'm a convert.
Especially with my recent commitment to SERIOUSLY SAFE DRIVING. SERIOUSLY. I wasn't sure I'd be okay talking on the phone (or any other not-so-safe thing you always end up doing in the car) ever again after the accident, but... well... Being able to push a single button and start talking to the air, and then push another single button and be disconnected-- I feel fairly safe with that system.
Now all I need is a frog. Bumper sticker. For my car. To replace the one I lost with the CR-V. And I have to decide whether or not it'd be a good thing to put my "I heart herbs!" bumper sticker on my car. Especially since I do buy dried herbs like lavender and comfrey and peppermint and Nettle from a local herbalist on a fairly regular basis... It's like the time a friend found my stash of unsweetened finely-grated coconut in the glove compartment. A nice fine white powdery blob of COCONUT in a little plastic baggie... Yeah.
Anyway, Did I tell you I found three different emergency medical kits in the CR-V when I cleaned it out? I threw out the moldy one (yuck!), and put the best of the remaining two into the new vehicle. Once I get my little sample carpet square back in the trunk (for if I get stuck on ice or in snow-- before that I had clumping cat litter. I hadn't really thought that one thru...), I'll be good to go. After all, it IS winter.
I've agreed to nanny through January. I'm determined to actually do the 2-3 posts a week I was originally hired to do for LJ online. I've got a short web-design job lined up for an aunt of mine, and I'm moving to a new temporary apartment until I get a full time job, or until it stops being a good place for me to be. I'm also trying to cut my belongings (clothing, books, furniture, archives, sundry craft supplies, and paper-saving tendencies) down by about 1/3 before I move. Somehow, being done with school has not had the "time-suddenly-available" effect on my life that I'd hoped for.
And somewhere in all this, I still do need to be applying for actual LIBRARIAN JOBS. I'm really determined that my next real job will pay more than $10 an hour. Like, maybe, $20-30 an hour instead. After all, I have a terminal master's degree now. And I'm going to be paying for it for a long time. Loooooooooooonnnngggggggg Tiiiiiimmmmmmeee
Yes.Terminally.
Beyond that, I feel rather silly, and thought I'd share the laugh with you-- at myself, as usual. See, I was starting to realize that I don't want too much furniture that I can't lift (or at least shove back and forth) by myself. And I want to give back to people all the stuff they've been so great about loaning me over the last two years. So I'm planning to return the borrowed, customized, 300 lb TV to my really awesome friend H. And with that gone, I started to wonder how I'd watch my "relax and vegetate" movies... so I thought about getting a new cheap TV (they don't exist), or maybe just a computer screen (totally possible, but actually MORE expensive), and then I remembered that some guy at a party said it was cheaper for him to just get a projector and project his movies on the wall... (yeah, right)... So I called an expert. Well, actually, I called the expert's wife. (Hi James!) And he clarified that it is VERY expensive to buy a computer screen with normal DVD-player hookups in it. But, he agreed with his wife that I could probably watch my DVDs on MY EXISTING COMPUTER for quite a few months before I wore out the DVD/CD drive. Oh.
Right. I HAVE a computer that can play movies. Duh.
Thank goodness I talked to a few sensible people before I went and broke my budget. Again. And actually, having tested it, my computer has better resolution and clearer sound than the really really BIG TV that I'm borrowing. And I can lift it, all by myself. So now I'm wondering if they don't make external computer DVD-reading hard drives for cheap... so I can keep from wearing out the one inside my computer. And I'm not quite sure what to do with my perfectly good fairly new DVD player. Also, I realize that I'm going to miss the personalized cup-holder in the old TV. Somewhat.
In other news, I LOVE my new car. I haven't tabulated the gas mileage yet, but the fact that I was able to drive for something like five hours straight without going below 1/4 tank? Happy. I also find that I like being able to close the trunk, and know nobody can see all the crap I've stored there. And the 6 CD-changer is nice. And the built-in Blue Tooth capability. That's a new one on me. Built-in wireless phoning. On my steering wheel. But now that I've programmed in the voice-recognized phone numbers I'm most likely to call in heavy traffic (usually because that means I'm STUCK in heavy traffic, and going to be late), I think I'm a convert.
Especially with my recent commitment to SERIOUSLY SAFE DRIVING. SERIOUSLY. I wasn't sure I'd be okay talking on the phone (or any other not-so-safe thing you always end up doing in the car) ever again after the accident, but... well... Being able to push a single button and start talking to the air, and then push another single button and be disconnected-- I feel fairly safe with that system.
Now all I need is a frog. Bumper sticker. For my car. To replace the one I lost with the CR-V. And I have to decide whether or not it'd be a good thing to put my "I heart herbs!" bumper sticker on my car. Especially since I do buy dried herbs like lavender and comfrey and peppermint and Nettle from a local herbalist on a fairly regular basis... It's like the time a friend found my stash of unsweetened finely-grated coconut in the glove compartment. A nice fine white powdery blob of COCONUT in a little plastic baggie... Yeah.
Anyway, Did I tell you I found three different emergency medical kits in the CR-V when I cleaned it out? I threw out the moldy one (yuck!), and put the best of the remaining two into the new vehicle. Once I get my little sample carpet square back in the trunk (for if I get stuck on ice or in snow-- before that I had clumping cat litter. I hadn't really thought that one thru...), I'll be good to go. After all, it IS winter.
I've agreed to nanny through January. I'm determined to actually do the 2-3 posts a week I was originally hired to do for LJ online. I've got a short web-design job lined up for an aunt of mine, and I'm moving to a new temporary apartment until I get a full time job, or until it stops being a good place for me to be. I'm also trying to cut my belongings (clothing, books, furniture, archives, sundry craft supplies, and paper-saving tendencies) down by about 1/3 before I move. Somehow, being done with school has not had the "time-suddenly-available" effect on my life that I'd hoped for.
And somewhere in all this, I still do need to be applying for actual LIBRARIAN JOBS. I'm really determined that my next real job will pay more than $10 an hour. Like, maybe, $20-30 an hour instead. After all, I have a terminal master's degree now. And I'm going to be paying for it for a long time. Loooooooooooonnnngggggggg Tiiiiiimmmmmmeee
Yes.Terminally.
Beyond that, I feel rather silly, and thought I'd share the laugh with you-- at myself, as usual. See, I was starting to realize that I don't want too much furniture that I can't lift (or at least shove back and forth) by myself. And I want to give back to people all the stuff they've been so great about loaning me over the last two years. So I'm planning to return the borrowed, customized, 300 lb TV to my really awesome friend H. And with that gone, I started to wonder how I'd watch my "relax and vegetate" movies... so I thought about getting a new cheap TV (they don't exist), or maybe just a computer screen (totally possible, but actually MORE expensive), and then I remembered that some guy at a party said it was cheaper for him to just get a projector and project his movies on the wall... (yeah, right)... So I called an expert. Well, actually, I called the expert's wife. (Hi James!) And he clarified that it is VERY expensive to buy a computer screen with normal DVD-player hookups in it. But, he agreed with his wife that I could probably watch my DVDs on MY EXISTING COMPUTER for quite a few months before I wore out the DVD/CD drive. Oh.
Right. I HAVE a computer that can play movies. Duh.
Thank goodness I talked to a few sensible people before I went and broke my budget. Again. And actually, having tested it, my computer has better resolution and clearer sound than the really really BIG TV that I'm borrowing. And I can lift it, all by myself. So now I'm wondering if they don't make external computer DVD-reading hard drives for cheap... so I can keep from wearing out the one inside my computer. And I'm not quite sure what to do with my perfectly good fairly new DVD player. Also, I realize that I'm going to miss the personalized cup-holder in the old TV. Somewhat.
Sunday, June 24
The Good List
- Getting the internship I really wanted.
- With the Youth Services Librarian.
- Discovering I can wear jeans and sneekers to my internship.
- not caring if I spell sneakers wrong
- Fire-colored Sunflowers
- A big healthy medicinal Aloe plant for $3.95.
- Lighting a fresh candle.
- Hiking up and down a small mountain in the rain.
- Seeing all the places fairies could hide from the rain in the mountain.
- Having two friends crazy enough to hike with me.
- Reaching the top alive.
- Getting complimented on not complaining about the UP part of the hike (this time).
- Letting the dog pull me up the last few yards.
- French fries and hot chocolate after a long hike in the rain.
- Having three different people tell me I give good advice (in the space of three days), and meaning it.
- Finding a thank you card I can send to men and women in a professional setting, and still look interesting. In a pack of 20.
- Popcorn with butter and yeast.
- Tea. Hot tea. With Elderberries in it.
- Peanut Sauce.
- A fluffy warm (DRY) new sweatshirt that was on sale and still looks and feels good.
- Planning to go back tomorrow and by a second one in a different color.
- A purring cat in my lap, batting at my fingers on the keyboard.
- Birthdays. Other people's birthdays. And having people to celebrate mine with.
- Finding out that turning 30 isn't nearly as scary as turning 29. Really. Three people have told me so.
- Having lots of people help you move your boxes and stuff from one house to another. Enough people that no one gets too tired, and it only takes one afternoon.
- Waterfalls. Especially on rainy days when there aren't too many other people using the trail you've taken.
- TigerBars.
- A well-fitted understory.
- Actually looking forward to what my 29th year will bring.
Sunday, February 11
It Ain't
So... a few pieces of professional advice from someone striving to become a professional...
I recently received a really exciting email from someone I spoke with over a month ago, and never heard from again. I am very pleased by it-- and it reminded me of this important rule:
Don't assume nothing came of it until it's officially already happened! An effort you made years back could still bear fruit for you tomorrow.
Although I first learned this fact in the Army, (where they can say you get time off as much as they like, but you can't make plans for your free time until you actually leave work early-- and even then you might get called back in)... I have found this to be true of my professional connections, my various jobs (even the ones I swore I'd never work at again), my hopes and dreams, and my homework. Beyond the moral right of just doing your best at everything, there is the stark reality that you get back what you give at some point down the road, and by then-- for good or ill-- it has usually snowballed into something much larger. So doing it right, and doing your best, is really about self-preservation. (And about that great do-good high!) Oh-- and check your spelling. People make more snap judgments based on spelling errors than on anything else your email might contain.
You see... Professionals-- especially successful ones-- are busy people. They have trained themselves to make snap judgments and snap decisions because there just isn't time to agonize over every little thing. You have to trust yourself. And networking is the key to being successful. So they may have decided right away that they like you-- but you might not hear about it from them for several weeks. As I said, they are busy people.
So as a future librarian, it behooves me to make as many positive professional connections as I can-- and to maintain them. Because I am not yet in a position to give and take on that professional level, I have to remind the energetic people that I meet (and often hope to emulate) that they know me-- and that I will be on that professional footing with them in the future. This way, even though they may not have a reason to contact me today, when that reason does come along, you can bet I'll be the one contacted. This is great practice for when I become a professional librarian, and need these connections myself. Or a professional anything, for that matter. If people don't know who you are and what you do, they can't hire you to do it. And if you haven't gotten out there to find out who they are and what they do, you won't know who to turn to when you have a question or a special request. It works both ways.
Here is where I again extend my warm appreciation to one of my old mentors-- the business woman. She taught me the power of networking... that it is WHO YOU KNOW that often matters in business. She also taught me the value of keeping records, and dating every piece of paper that passes through my hands. We weathered an audit of her business together at one point, and everything had to be tracked down, and verified. This is much easier if your business calendar, your collection of other peoples' business cards, and your business lunch receipts all have dates on them. Trying to remember who you had lunch with on August 4th of 2003 is much easier to do ON AUGUST 4th of 2003, than on any day after that (especially a day that falls in 2005)!
I also learned that you must know every aspect of your business yourself-- and that includes the tax laws. Even if you don't plan to do the taxes yourself. It will influence your business decisions (and these decisions will be to your benefit because they are informed decisions), and it will greatly influence your bottom line. Don't be afraid to advocate your product (whether it's performing a service or creating a piece of usable art), and don't be afraid to do what is best for your business, whether Mr. X, whose been doing it THIS way for 20 years agrees with you or not.
So... remember that amazing American Library Association Winter Conference I went to, way back when last month? Well, I am still in touch with some of the people I met and networked with while I was there. I haven't always heard a response to my communications right away... but I know they are busy being successful... and that by keeping myself in their mind (and checking my spelling, so that I appear competent when doing so), I am opening myself to opportunities. Great opportunities.
Another secret to success that I've learned, but not always successfully applied, is to carry business cards. Always. And a pen or two. People will remember someone who gave them a good working pen in a pinch, and was prepared enough to have an extra for themselves.
Although I have business cards, I don't always hand them out, because the info they contain is not always relevant. I have a good friend whose business card carries nothing but her name. It looks very professional, and it can be handed out to anyone. And I intend to emulate this solid system with my next purchase of cards-- because those cards have lots of space for writing... and because it gives me the power to decide how a new person in my network can contact me, to provide only that information that this person will find relevant. And by writing my contact info on the card before I hand it over, I am personalizing our relationship. This goes a long way to helping them remember me.
Are they a POC (army for Point of Contact) for my art business? A POC for my work and career as a Librarian? Or are they just a neat person I'd like to get to know better? I have a different email for each of these, although I know they often overlap. So I need a business card. The one I have now is for my art business, and has an old email address on it. Handing it out does not enhance my aura of skilled competence at this point in the library game, however appropriate the card was when I had them made-- all 1000 of them. The good news is that I didn't have anything printed on the back of the cards, so I can use them for quick notes to myself... ("JUST PUT YOUR NAME ON THE CARD NEXT TIME, STUPID!")
I also believe that although your friends and your business network often overlap-- especially if you are good at what you do!!-- it is important to have an email account dedicated to business use. This way, all my electronic subscriptions to business -related journals go into the business account, as do responses to my letters of introduction to other business professionals. I'm not confronted with them on a day off unless I purposely go to my business email. I can also give that email out to strangers more comfortably, knowing my truly personal correspondences usually happen elsewhere... I never understood how a person could need more than one--possibly two-- email accounts... until I entered the business world. Now I know that if you dedicate an email account to this early on, your ability to maintain communication with your business network won't be affected if you move to a different company or state, and they cancel your company account. It's your email, and nobody can decide to delete it but you. (I actually have a friend with the opposite problem just now-- her old business email at the last institution where she worked is still active-- 8 months later. And people are still trying to correspond with her through it because of that. There's nothing she can do to reroute them because she no longer belongs to that institution.)
So, in celebration of all the good things that are happening (or about to happen, or might yet happen) in my life... Remember:
I recently received a really exciting email from someone I spoke with over a month ago, and never heard from again. I am very pleased by it-- and it reminded me of this important rule:
Don't assume nothing came of it until it's officially already happened! An effort you made years back could still bear fruit for you tomorrow.
Although I first learned this fact in the Army, (where they can say you get time off as much as they like, but you can't make plans for your free time until you actually leave work early-- and even then you might get called back in)... I have found this to be true of my professional connections, my various jobs (even the ones I swore I'd never work at again), my hopes and dreams, and my homework. Beyond the moral right of just doing your best at everything, there is the stark reality that you get back what you give at some point down the road, and by then-- for good or ill-- it has usually snowballed into something much larger. So doing it right, and doing your best, is really about self-preservation. (And about that great do-good high!) Oh-- and check your spelling. People make more snap judgments based on spelling errors than on anything else your email might contain.
You see... Professionals-- especially successful ones-- are busy people. They have trained themselves to make snap judgments and snap decisions because there just isn't time to agonize over every little thing. You have to trust yourself. And networking is the key to being successful. So they may have decided right away that they like you-- but you might not hear about it from them for several weeks. As I said, they are busy people.
So as a future librarian, it behooves me to make as many positive professional connections as I can-- and to maintain them. Because I am not yet in a position to give and take on that professional level, I have to remind the energetic people that I meet (and often hope to emulate) that they know me-- and that I will be on that professional footing with them in the future. This way, even though they may not have a reason to contact me today, when that reason does come along, you can bet I'll be the one contacted. This is great practice for when I become a professional librarian, and need these connections myself. Or a professional anything, for that matter. If people don't know who you are and what you do, they can't hire you to do it. And if you haven't gotten out there to find out who they are and what they do, you won't know who to turn to when you have a question or a special request. It works both ways.
Here is where I again extend my warm appreciation to one of my old mentors-- the business woman. She taught me the power of networking... that it is WHO YOU KNOW that often matters in business. She also taught me the value of keeping records, and dating every piece of paper that passes through my hands. We weathered an audit of her business together at one point, and everything had to be tracked down, and verified. This is much easier if your business calendar, your collection of other peoples' business cards, and your business lunch receipts all have dates on them. Trying to remember who you had lunch with on August 4th of 2003 is much easier to do ON AUGUST 4th of 2003, than on any day after that (especially a day that falls in 2005)!
I also learned that you must know every aspect of your business yourself-- and that includes the tax laws. Even if you don't plan to do the taxes yourself. It will influence your business decisions (and these decisions will be to your benefit because they are informed decisions), and it will greatly influence your bottom line. Don't be afraid to advocate your product (whether it's performing a service or creating a piece of usable art), and don't be afraid to do what is best for your business, whether Mr. X, whose been doing it THIS way for 20 years agrees with you or not.
So... remember that amazing American Library Association Winter Conference I went to, way back when last month? Well, I am still in touch with some of the people I met and networked with while I was there. I haven't always heard a response to my communications right away... but I know they are busy being successful... and that by keeping myself in their mind (and checking my spelling, so that I appear competent when doing so), I am opening myself to opportunities. Great opportunities.
Another secret to success that I've learned, but not always successfully applied, is to carry business cards. Always. And a pen or two. People will remember someone who gave them a good working pen in a pinch, and was prepared enough to have an extra for themselves.
Although I have business cards, I don't always hand them out, because the info they contain is not always relevant. I have a good friend whose business card carries nothing but her name. It looks very professional, and it can be handed out to anyone. And I intend to emulate this solid system with my next purchase of cards-- because those cards have lots of space for writing... and because it gives me the power to decide how a new person in my network can contact me, to provide only that information that this person will find relevant. And by writing my contact info on the card before I hand it over, I am personalizing our relationship. This goes a long way to helping them remember me.
Are they a POC (army for Point of Contact) for my art business? A POC for my work and career as a Librarian? Or are they just a neat person I'd like to get to know better? I have a different email for each of these, although I know they often overlap. So I need a business card. The one I have now is for my art business, and has an old email address on it. Handing it out does not enhance my aura of skilled competence at this point in the library game, however appropriate the card was when I had them made-- all 1000 of them. The good news is that I didn't have anything printed on the back of the cards, so I can use them for quick notes to myself... ("JUST PUT YOUR NAME ON THE CARD NEXT TIME, STUPID!")
I also believe that although your friends and your business network often overlap-- especially if you are good at what you do!!-- it is important to have an email account dedicated to business use. This way, all my electronic subscriptions to business -related journals go into the business account, as do responses to my letters of introduction to other business professionals. I'm not confronted with them on a day off unless I purposely go to my business email. I can also give that email out to strangers more comfortably, knowing my truly personal correspondences usually happen elsewhere... I never understood how a person could need more than one--possibly two-- email accounts... until I entered the business world. Now I know that if you dedicate an email account to this early on, your ability to maintain communication with your business network won't be affected if you move to a different company or state, and they cancel your company account. It's your email, and nobody can decide to delete it but you. (I actually have a friend with the opposite problem just now-- her old business email at the last institution where she worked is still active-- 8 months later. And people are still trying to correspond with her through it because of that. There's nothing she can do to reroute them because she no longer belongs to that institution.)
So, in celebration of all the good things that are happening (or about to happen, or might yet happen) in my life... Remember:
It ain't over 'till it's over!
Monday, February 5
Leverage, Says You
I've moved around a lot in my lifetime. Not as much as some folks I know, and mostly in the Northwest, I'll grant you. But... (I'm counting)... I moved five times last year alone... and ten times before that-- not including college. Everyone moves around during college.
This year, I managed a first. In the one month this year has existed, no less. I moved without being aware of it. Yes. I find that impressive. In fact, it was this weird little 21 year old banker at my local branch (who kept saying "Score Team!" whenever he entered info into a field on the computer, and it stayed there) who informed me of the change. Apparently, I've not only changed zip codes, but I'm now in a different town as well. The post office has just been nice about forwarding my mail for the past few months, apparently, because they are nice like that. (And yet, nobody TOLD me that I MOVED! I guess some things are supposed to be self-evident. I haven't even noticed any extra boxes sitting around!) I still don't know what this will mean for my taxes, either. But, I'm a veteran when it comes to moving. I know enough not to panic for the first few months if I can't find my bank statement or my birthday gifts are delivered in person (a few months after the fact) because it's just easier that way. Not a problem.
(As a side note, my cat has now given up her attempts to physically move my fingers from the keyboard with one paw, and down onto HER, where she believes they'll be much more useful, and is now informing me that it's cold in here. She does this by sitting very primly in front of the only heater in the living room. RIGHT IN FRONT OF IT. Shrinking in upon herself. Because she knows this is usually the warmest spot in the house, and it's NOT. So I've given in to peer pressure, and turned on the heat. As soon as she felt the warm spot get warm, she relaxed her posture, and started washing her paws. Success! Those big idiots can be TAUGHT!! I hope to feel the same way about my govergnment someday.)
Apparently, the part of town I was living in got too big, and had to be annexed. Rather than just giving us a new zip code, they decided instead to give us to a smaller neighboring town. How sweet. Is it legal to give my home to someone else without my consent? It is if my taxes are lower as a result, that's for sure.
Taxes. I went to a poetry reading over the weekend. Well, actually, I went to the 18th Annual International African-American Read-In at one of my local libraries. How it can be African-American AND international, I have no idea, but they did it. And it was an excellent event. I'm planning to keep an eye out so I can attend again next year. One of the speakers was a Ms. Alicia Jackson. She read a poem she'd written, and I LOVE IT. I want a copy of it. I just don't know if it's in print yet. All about how the world is... in her mind's eye... with everybody making enough money, no taxes (since we didn't make the mess we're paying for anyway) and children in all countries with food, shelter, safety and love, and reports from the governmgent you can trust, institutions to Educate, and not to Incarcerate, no drunk drivers with multiple warnings who just go out and do it again, and so on... But how that's not real. It's not the world we live in right now. It was a beautiful poem, well-read, and an appropriate reminder that there is always work for us to do, bringing our dreams for ourselves and our children and neighbors and friends into reality.
It's this annual worry about taxes that reminded me. Another civic duty. One so totally disconnected from our actual choices of leadership and interactions with our governing body's adopted laws, and hands-on volunteer efforts to make a difference on this earth, that most of us don't even connect the two in our minds anymore. We pay taxes because we make decisions about where the money goes... through voting. It's not just because we have to pay even more money later if we don't pay it now, and Big Brogther is Watching.
I don't feel the connection anymore. America is too big, too ruled by the politics of corporations and money lenders, the computer programmers and ballot counters too biased, and the whole system too unwieldy for me to believe that I actually make a difference by casting my one little vote. I think we, the people, have more voice by rioting in the streets en mass than we do by voting sometimes. But I still vote. Because just maybe, someday, some of what I see in my mind's eye will exist when I open my eyes, too. And I'd like to be a part of that.
Had an interesting conversation with a good friend about Social Segcurity today. Somehow, of the vast majority of people I've spoken with in my generation... none of us believe we'll see any Social Security payments in our lifetimes. We know the SS taxes we pay this year will go directly to pay the dues owed our grandparents and the older retirees, THIS YEAR. We know that the current average life expectancy of a woman is 97. We know our parents-- the Baby Boomer generation-- will probably see that age. Most of them. And that most of them, who saved for retirement at all, were on the "we'll live about 20 years after we retire" plan. Because back when they were my age, that was the life expectancy... about 82. Even life insurance plans don't go past age 99. There hasn't ever been any point to doing so before.
So how will they live out those last twenty years? They'll use Medicare and Medicaid, and Social Security, and loans and credit cards and second mortgages if they can. There aren't as many workers in the coming generations-- a terrible ratio between the working and the retired that does not bode well for any SS financial reserves or even any direct payments to be left for us gen-Xers, and those in the surrounding generations. (I'm not actually sure what mine is called...) So we all know how important it is to save for our own retirements. And none of us expect to stop working at age 60 or 62 or 65. We'll only be middle aged by then. Heck, my parents took up kayaking at age 60! They aren't old. No way! ... so I know when their retirement money runs out, there had better be an extra room on the ground floor with their name on the door, and a bathroom they can use down the hall. They aren't leaving this world any time soon, and I'm glad of it. (They would be horrified if they knew I plan on this happening. On them moving in with me. They are independent and capable right now. And they have planned for retirement. I think they just still look at it the way they did when they first started saving. And they don't want me to feel obligated to them in their old age. I don't as such... but with love comes responsibility, and it is not a choice they can make for me. So I borrow house plans with mother-in-law suites from the library, and ask about their latest boating trip on the phone.)
We are making more amenities and programs and resources available to our retirees because they have leverage. They are a large and growing group in our population, and they have special needs. "Leverage, says you... I feel a change in the wind, says I." (Quoting a pirate, for all that I don't believe those who fall behind should be left behind. What kind of social morals are those? ...And do we want to risk actually being one of the ones falling behind some day?)
You see, there is a ray of hope in this, if you can call it that. First, we all see it coming, so we have time to prepare. And second, the younger generations-- kids in 4th and 5th grade-- they have actually got a SHORTER life expectancy. The first generation of kids who can expect to live shorter lives than their parents and grandparents did. At that point, when they retire, SS probably won't kick in until they are about 75 or 80 anyway, and by then... most of them will already be dead from cancer or growth hormones or apathy or asthma or aids or diabetes or chronic obesity or chronic depression. Heck, half of the coming generations will probably be BORN with these challenges... and many of them won't be able to work at all ever anyway-- so again, Social Secgurity as it stands would be a moot point.
So what is our government doing to ensure that there is a new and more adequate plan in place to answer the swelling medical needs of our country? To deal with the aftermath of changing everything to cater to the retiring Boomers as we are struggling to do now... and having those changes to the system still in place after those boomers are gone, when the population of America suddenly decreases dramatically... but for the incoming swells of people with dreams, born in other countries, and needing health care and unemployment insurance just like the rest of us humans? How will we care for the ill, the homeless, those unable to hold or work a job, the multitudes of our men and women who are mentally and physically ill from the wars or from toxic work environments? How will we stem the increasing proclivity of our youth to rely on credit cards and bank loans for income and for unexpected expenses like hospitalization and pregnancy?
I don't know. But I keep voting, and closing my eyes to see the world I want to live in, and paying those taxes anyway. I don't want my parents to be homeless one day either, and I'm willing to pay into a government program to keep that from happening. Call it social security if you want.
This year, I managed a first. In the one month this year has existed, no less. I moved without being aware of it. Yes. I find that impressive. In fact, it was this weird little 21 year old banker at my local branch (who kept saying "Score Team!" whenever he entered info into a field on the computer, and it stayed there) who informed me of the change. Apparently, I've not only changed zip codes, but I'm now in a different town as well. The post office has just been nice about forwarding my mail for the past few months, apparently, because they are nice like that. (And yet, nobody TOLD me that I MOVED! I guess some things are supposed to be self-evident. I haven't even noticed any extra boxes sitting around!) I still don't know what this will mean for my taxes, either. But, I'm a veteran when it comes to moving. I know enough not to panic for the first few months if I can't find my bank statement or my birthday gifts are delivered in person (a few months after the fact) because it's just easier that way. Not a problem.
(As a side note, my cat has now given up her attempts to physically move my fingers from the keyboard with one paw, and down onto HER, where she believes they'll be much more useful, and is now informing me that it's cold in here. She does this by sitting very primly in front of the only heater in the living room. RIGHT IN FRONT OF IT. Shrinking in upon herself. Because she knows this is usually the warmest spot in the house, and it's NOT. So I've given in to peer pressure, and turned on the heat. As soon as she felt the warm spot get warm, she relaxed her posture, and started washing her paws. Success! Those big idiots can be TAUGHT!! I hope to feel the same way about my govergnment someday.)
Apparently, the part of town I was living in got too big, and had to be annexed. Rather than just giving us a new zip code, they decided instead to give us to a smaller neighboring town. How sweet. Is it legal to give my home to someone else without my consent? It is if my taxes are lower as a result, that's for sure.
Taxes. I went to a poetry reading over the weekend. Well, actually, I went to the 18th Annual International African-American Read-In at one of my local libraries. How it can be African-American AND international, I have no idea, but they did it. And it was an excellent event. I'm planning to keep an eye out so I can attend again next year. One of the speakers was a Ms. Alicia Jackson. She read a poem she'd written, and I LOVE IT. I want a copy of it. I just don't know if it's in print yet. All about how the world is... in her mind's eye... with everybody making enough money, no taxes (since we didn't make the mess we're paying for anyway) and children in all countries with food, shelter, safety and love, and reports from the governmgent you can trust, institutions to Educate, and not to Incarcerate, no drunk drivers with multiple warnings who just go out and do it again, and so on... But how that's not real. It's not the world we live in right now. It was a beautiful poem, well-read, and an appropriate reminder that there is always work for us to do, bringing our dreams for ourselves and our children and neighbors and friends into reality.
It's this annual worry about taxes that reminded me. Another civic duty. One so totally disconnected from our actual choices of leadership and interactions with our governing body's adopted laws, and hands-on volunteer efforts to make a difference on this earth, that most of us don't even connect the two in our minds anymore. We pay taxes because we make decisions about where the money goes... through voting. It's not just because we have to pay even more money later if we don't pay it now, and Big Brogther is Watching.
I don't feel the connection anymore. America is too big, too ruled by the politics of corporations and money lenders, the computer programmers and ballot counters too biased, and the whole system too unwieldy for me to believe that I actually make a difference by casting my one little vote. I think we, the people, have more voice by rioting in the streets en mass than we do by voting sometimes. But I still vote. Because just maybe, someday, some of what I see in my mind's eye will exist when I open my eyes, too. And I'd like to be a part of that.
Had an interesting conversation with a good friend about Social Segcurity today. Somehow, of the vast majority of people I've spoken with in my generation... none of us believe we'll see any Social Security payments in our lifetimes. We know the SS taxes we pay this year will go directly to pay the dues owed our grandparents and the older retirees, THIS YEAR. We know that the current average life expectancy of a woman is 97. We know our parents-- the Baby Boomer generation-- will probably see that age. Most of them. And that most of them, who saved for retirement at all, were on the "we'll live about 20 years after we retire" plan. Because back when they were my age, that was the life expectancy... about 82. Even life insurance plans don't go past age 99. There hasn't ever been any point to doing so before.
So how will they live out those last twenty years? They'll use Medicare and Medicaid, and Social Security, and loans and credit cards and second mortgages if they can. There aren't as many workers in the coming generations-- a terrible ratio between the working and the retired that does not bode well for any SS financial reserves or even any direct payments to be left for us gen-Xers, and those in the surrounding generations. (I'm not actually sure what mine is called...) So we all know how important it is to save for our own retirements. And none of us expect to stop working at age 60 or 62 or 65. We'll only be middle aged by then. Heck, my parents took up kayaking at age 60! They aren't old. No way! ... so I know when their retirement money runs out, there had better be an extra room on the ground floor with their name on the door, and a bathroom they can use down the hall. They aren't leaving this world any time soon, and I'm glad of it. (They would be horrified if they knew I plan on this happening. On them moving in with me. They are independent and capable right now. And they have planned for retirement. I think they just still look at it the way they did when they first started saving. And they don't want me to feel obligated to them in their old age. I don't as such... but with love comes responsibility, and it is not a choice they can make for me. So I borrow house plans with mother-in-law suites from the library, and ask about their latest boating trip on the phone.)
We are making more amenities and programs and resources available to our retirees because they have leverage. They are a large and growing group in our population, and they have special needs. "Leverage, says you... I feel a change in the wind, says I." (Quoting a pirate, for all that I don't believe those who fall behind should be left behind. What kind of social morals are those? ...And do we want to risk actually being one of the ones falling behind some day?)
You see, there is a ray of hope in this, if you can call it that. First, we all see it coming, so we have time to prepare. And second, the younger generations-- kids in 4th and 5th grade-- they have actually got a SHORTER life expectancy. The first generation of kids who can expect to live shorter lives than their parents and grandparents did. At that point, when they retire, SS probably won't kick in until they are about 75 or 80 anyway, and by then... most of them will already be dead from cancer or growth hormones or apathy or asthma or aids or diabetes or chronic obesity or chronic depression. Heck, half of the coming generations will probably be BORN with these challenges... and many of them won't be able to work at all ever anyway-- so again, Social Secgurity as it stands would be a moot point.
So what is our government doing to ensure that there is a new and more adequate plan in place to answer the swelling medical needs of our country? To deal with the aftermath of changing everything to cater to the retiring Boomers as we are struggling to do now... and having those changes to the system still in place after those boomers are gone, when the population of America suddenly decreases dramatically... but for the incoming swells of people with dreams, born in other countries, and needing health care and unemployment insurance just like the rest of us humans? How will we care for the ill, the homeless, those unable to hold or work a job, the multitudes of our men and women who are mentally and physically ill from the wars or from toxic work environments? How will we stem the increasing proclivity of our youth to rely on credit cards and bank loans for income and for unexpected expenses like hospitalization and pregnancy?
I don't know. But I keep voting, and closing my eyes to see the world I want to live in, and paying those taxes anyway. I don't want my parents to be homeless one day either, and I'm willing to pay into a government program to keep that from happening. Call it social security if you want.
Sunday, January 28
Abundance
There is a book, "Something More," by Sarah Ban Breathnach. The sub-title is "Excavating Your Authentic Self." I stumbled upon this book in my local public library-- the smaller branch-- just as I was creating my first home alone and trying to understand who I am, now that I am divorced.
I'd just moved to a new state, started a new job, and was trying to piece together bits of my old life, and bits of my new one into something that felt whole... The only certainty was that I didn't really know what "whole" looked like... I just knew there had to be something more than work and money and dating/marriage. I'd had all that, and it wasn't... it just wasn't. And here was this book... talking about Abundance and Authenticity. "Human beings," she says, "seem to be divided into two subspecies-- the resigned, who live in quiet desperation, and the exhausted, who exist in restless agitation." I recognized myself, and one of my good friends who had not left her bad marriage, in these descriptions. She was resigned. I was exhausted-and-restless. "I wish I'd known from the beginning that I was born a strong woman. ...I've spent so much of my life cowering." YES, I thought. I keep learning the difficult lesson that I am strong, but I don't ever acknowledge it or use that strength toward anything but survival. I keep cowering and reacting, instead of standing tall in my own shoes, and ACTING! ...I bought the book.
It's been almost exactly a year since I moved out on my own. A year since I realized that if I didn't act, I might not live. In fact, I wasn't living. I was cowering, and reacting, and appeasing. Constantly. And none of my life was actually about me. I decided that I wanted my life to be about me, and about JOY... so I acted. I have been sad, and lonely, and scared many times since then... but they have been passing moods. (And, to be honest, I felt that way a lot more while I was married!) Mostly, I have been active, and joyfully exploring my world-- MY WORLD! This world that is full of beauty, and color, and opportunities, and friends.
I just had my first official House Party today. It was a "New Beginnings" Open House, to celebrate the new year, and my first year of LIVING! I invited a LOT of people to it, and quite a few of them came, which was very nice indeed. Many of them surprised me by bringing fun and thoughtful gifts, too. I felt very loved. And that, my dears, is what this is all about.
Hosting this party also gave me a chance to look around at the people I call friends, and realize that I have turned them into my family. No matter what those popular phrases say about not picking your family-- you CAN. You just can't pick your relatives. For me, there is actually quite a bit of overlap, but the funny part is that the vast majority of friends I have are all around the age of 60 or so. If I was in my 40's or 50's, maybe that wouldn't be worth mentioning-- but the reality is that I'm not even in my 30's yet! Somehow, these warm, confident, intelligent, self-aware people make more sense to me than the other college kids ever did.
I really enjoy spending time with people who love and accept me for who I am, too-- and who see that person (me) as worthwhile. I feel that I am worthwhile, and it is wonderful to have that reflected back at me by the people I give my time and energy to. The people who matter in my life. I also enjoy spending time with people who know who they are (more or less), and aren't afraid to talk about themselves and about life openly and with passion-- and intelligence!! I find that most people my age aren't really like that yet-- or at least, if they are, it's usually with people they've known their whole lives. Safe people.
And I do have some very very good friends my own age. About half of them even live in the same state as me, now, and of those, about half were able to make it to my Open House today. So as I looked around the room, I saw my parents, my aunt and uncle, and a whole lot of other neat people with a lot of life under their belts... who I have known (or feel that I've known) for a very long time, and who have loved me for at least that long. What a wonderful celebration of life! What a wonderful beginning. What wonderful PEOPLE!
I had two requests of everyone who came to my house today. One, EAT! and two, meditate on Abundance, and create an intention for how you will add to the abundance in your life this year. I feel very strongly about Abundance.
It's not a New Year's Resolution, nothing so shallow. It's a way of filling personal preferences with determination-- self-determination. More, I have myself been meditating on abundance, and realizing how full my life is of the things I most care to have these days-- good friends, good food, good books, good times, good plans... I have a wonderful home that I love returning to each night, and spending time in when I'm not away. I have food I like in the fridge. I have a few plants on the back patio that seem destined to live for a while longer. (And nobody randomly accusing me of being a plant-killer.) I have time to indulge my creative pursuits-- and people to share those passions with-- and I have a truly wonderful cat-companion, as well. I wanted to share this awareness of the abundance we have, and can bring to ourselves, with the people who helped me to reach toward it.
My cat truly is my companion, by the way, for all the time I spend with my many friends. She keeps my feet warm in the winter (very important to those of us with reptilian ancestry), she provides a wide variety of entertaining activities and opinions. (Currently, she has taken command of an end table in the living room. Anything placed on it WILL BE REMOVED-- when no one is watching. I accidentally set a full waterbottle on there once. Full waterbottles are LOUD when they hit the floor!!) She shares her affection, her soft fur, and her time with me, and she loves me back. Truly. I'll be sitting on the recliner, scritching her tummy, and listening to her purr... and she will reach one front paw up, and pat me on the chin or the nose. I love that! She knows I am giving her love like that, so she is giving ME love in kind. She runs to greet me when I come home from work every day, too, and gives me extra attention with few demands if she realizes I've had a particularly difficult day. She's even figured out that study time is not lap-time. At least for the first few hours... And all bets are off if her food dish is running low... but I can live with rules like that. Straightforward and obvious ones.
But, back to Abundance. I get to learn new things, I get to explore new ideas. I get to wake up each day knowing the life I lead has been created entirely by my decisions and with my best interests in mind. There is beautiful art on my walls, and there are great books in my living room. Nobody is yelling at me or telling me that all I've added to their lives is problems. I'm not responsible for the happiness of anyone but myself (and my cat)... and yet, there are also people in my life who welcome my involvement, and my insights. This is a good life. A joyful, abundant life. And it's mine. I wanted to share a piece of that opportunity with everyone who has contributed to the raging success of my own New Beginning. Thank you.
To quote Ms. Breathnach, "I hope your search for Something More is just that-- more bountiful, more exciting, more exhilarating, more joyous, more miraculous than any personal journey you've ever been on before. Blessings on your courage. Your buried treasure lies within."
I'd just moved to a new state, started a new job, and was trying to piece together bits of my old life, and bits of my new one into something that felt whole... The only certainty was that I didn't really know what "whole" looked like... I just knew there had to be something more than work and money and dating/marriage. I'd had all that, and it wasn't... it just wasn't. And here was this book... talking about Abundance and Authenticity. "Human beings," she says, "seem to be divided into two subspecies-- the resigned, who live in quiet desperation, and the exhausted, who exist in restless agitation." I recognized myself, and one of my good friends who had not left her bad marriage, in these descriptions. She was resigned. I was exhausted-and-restless. "I wish I'd known from the beginning that I was born a strong woman. ...I've spent so much of my life cowering." YES, I thought. I keep learning the difficult lesson that I am strong, but I don't ever acknowledge it or use that strength toward anything but survival. I keep cowering and reacting, instead of standing tall in my own shoes, and ACTING! ...I bought the book.
It's been almost exactly a year since I moved out on my own. A year since I realized that if I didn't act, I might not live. In fact, I wasn't living. I was cowering, and reacting, and appeasing. Constantly. And none of my life was actually about me. I decided that I wanted my life to be about me, and about JOY... so I acted. I have been sad, and lonely, and scared many times since then... but they have been passing moods. (And, to be honest, I felt that way a lot more while I was married!) Mostly, I have been active, and joyfully exploring my world-- MY WORLD! This world that is full of beauty, and color, and opportunities, and friends.
I just had my first official House Party today. It was a "New Beginnings" Open House, to celebrate the new year, and my first year of LIVING! I invited a LOT of people to it, and quite a few of them came, which was very nice indeed. Many of them surprised me by bringing fun and thoughtful gifts, too. I felt very loved. And that, my dears, is what this is all about.
Hosting this party also gave me a chance to look around at the people I call friends, and realize that I have turned them into my family. No matter what those popular phrases say about not picking your family-- you CAN. You just can't pick your relatives. For me, there is actually quite a bit of overlap, but the funny part is that the vast majority of friends I have are all around the age of 60 or so. If I was in my 40's or 50's, maybe that wouldn't be worth mentioning-- but the reality is that I'm not even in my 30's yet! Somehow, these warm, confident, intelligent, self-aware people make more sense to me than the other college kids ever did.
I really enjoy spending time with people who love and accept me for who I am, too-- and who see that person (me) as worthwhile. I feel that I am worthwhile, and it is wonderful to have that reflected back at me by the people I give my time and energy to. The people who matter in my life. I also enjoy spending time with people who know who they are (more or less), and aren't afraid to talk about themselves and about life openly and with passion-- and intelligence!! I find that most people my age aren't really like that yet-- or at least, if they are, it's usually with people they've known their whole lives. Safe people.
And I do have some very very good friends my own age. About half of them even live in the same state as me, now, and of those, about half were able to make it to my Open House today. So as I looked around the room, I saw my parents, my aunt and uncle, and a whole lot of other neat people with a lot of life under their belts... who I have known (or feel that I've known) for a very long time, and who have loved me for at least that long. What a wonderful celebration of life! What a wonderful beginning. What wonderful PEOPLE!
I had two requests of everyone who came to my house today. One, EAT! and two, meditate on Abundance, and create an intention for how you will add to the abundance in your life this year. I feel very strongly about Abundance.
It's not a New Year's Resolution, nothing so shallow. It's a way of filling personal preferences with determination-- self-determination. More, I have myself been meditating on abundance, and realizing how full my life is of the things I most care to have these days-- good friends, good food, good books, good times, good plans... I have a wonderful home that I love returning to each night, and spending time in when I'm not away. I have food I like in the fridge. I have a few plants on the back patio that seem destined to live for a while longer. (And nobody randomly accusing me of being a plant-killer.) I have time to indulge my creative pursuits-- and people to share those passions with-- and I have a truly wonderful cat-companion, as well. I wanted to share this awareness of the abundance we have, and can bring to ourselves, with the people who helped me to reach toward it.
My cat truly is my companion, by the way, for all the time I spend with my many friends. She keeps my feet warm in the winter (very important to those of us with reptilian ancestry), she provides a wide variety of entertaining activities and opinions. (Currently, she has taken command of an end table in the living room. Anything placed on it WILL BE REMOVED-- when no one is watching. I accidentally set a full waterbottle on there once. Full waterbottles are LOUD when they hit the floor!!) She shares her affection, her soft fur, and her time with me, and she loves me back. Truly. I'll be sitting on the recliner, scritching her tummy, and listening to her purr... and she will reach one front paw up, and pat me on the chin or the nose. I love that! She knows I am giving her love like that, so she is giving ME love in kind. She runs to greet me when I come home from work every day, too, and gives me extra attention with few demands if she realizes I've had a particularly difficult day. She's even figured out that study time is not lap-time. At least for the first few hours... And all bets are off if her food dish is running low... but I can live with rules like that. Straightforward and obvious ones.
But, back to Abundance. I get to learn new things, I get to explore new ideas. I get to wake up each day knowing the life I lead has been created entirely by my decisions and with my best interests in mind. There is beautiful art on my walls, and there are great books in my living room. Nobody is yelling at me or telling me that all I've added to their lives is problems. I'm not responsible for the happiness of anyone but myself (and my cat)... and yet, there are also people in my life who welcome my involvement, and my insights. This is a good life. A joyful, abundant life. And it's mine. I wanted to share a piece of that opportunity with everyone who has contributed to the raging success of my own New Beginning. Thank you.
To quote Ms. Breathnach, "I hope your search for Something More is just that-- more bountiful, more exciting, more exhilarating, more joyous, more miraculous than any personal journey you've ever been on before. Blessings on your courage. Your buried treasure lies within."
Tuesday, January 23
I Loveya, Ikea!
Stopped at Ikea on my way home from the Library Conference. I guess you could say it was a quick visit. Only took me three hours to get through the maze-cum-showroom they've crafted, and recently expanded. Hadn't gone in well over a year, and a good thing, too. No where else (except maybe Costco) can you get so much for so little, and still break the bank.
I still remember with fond irreverence the first time I went to Ikea alone. I was driving a Jetta at the time. A small one. I bought a wicker lounge chair. A crowd gathered around my car as I put the lounge chair into it-- and took it out--- and put it in from a different angle-- and took it out--- and put it in through a different door-- and took it out... I had to roll down one of the rear windows to get the doors closed once the chair was finally inside. Never underestimate a small-but-fiercely-determined woman. Never. (A few people actually clapped at my eventual success. I suspect I should have applied to Volkswagen for a grant at that point. I'd modeled each and every one of the car's many stowage and storage options in less than 15 minutes, and proven that the impossible could be done, if only you drove a Jetta! That has to be some sort of a record. And since it was in person, it was actually MORE EFFECTIVE than a TV ad. Man, I miss those butt-warmers!) Didn't even occur to me that buying a large, long, and unwieldy chair might not be a good idea when driving a compact car. And once the money's gone, there is no WAY whatever you bought is staying behind when you drive away!
Then there was the time my partner and I bought the king-sized bed frame and the two large bookshelves, among other treasures... we were driving his Jeep Cherokee for that one. We finally got everything loaded in, and then realized there was no room left for US! I ended up driving because I was shorter. Strangest reason to be picked to drive I've ever heard of... but you see, my head sort of fit under the bed frame, which was shoved precariously over the top of both front seats, and I could still sorta see out over the dashboard. I still don't know how my partner folded himself inside what was left of the passenger seat. At least we got all the doors and windows closed on that one! Come to think of it, everything we bought on that trip was bought to accommodate his 6'3" frame, and his 63 million books... and it all stayed with him after our divorce, too. He was just lucky to have me around, that's all! (There, you see? Another reason to love Ikea-- it helps me realize my own value!... riiiight.)
Well, on this trip, I only bought two small sets of shelves (much-needed!), and a ton of other little stuff. Things I could get into my car and then into my home without having to call for back-up. Plenty of room to spare in my nice roomy Honda CRV, too. And, now, plenty of empty space in my bank account. But, c'mon! Where else would you find stoneware spaghetti bowls for 59 cents?? And small pottery planters that were made with a hole so you could hang them up on a hook, out of the way, without the whole "swaying in the wind" of traditional hanging baskets... And... and... all that other random stuff I bought... What did I spend all that money on, again?
That's what I love about Ikea. There's always more stuff there that you really "need," and it's always available at a good price-- so long as you can haul it home yourself. That's also what I love about living several hours away from one of their stores these days. I can't casually stop by on a weekend anymore. Except, of course, for last weekend. Sigh.
I still remember with fond irreverence the first time I went to Ikea alone. I was driving a Jetta at the time. A small one. I bought a wicker lounge chair. A crowd gathered around my car as I put the lounge chair into it-- and took it out--- and put it in from a different angle-- and took it out--- and put it in through a different door-- and took it out... I had to roll down one of the rear windows to get the doors closed once the chair was finally inside. Never underestimate a small-but-fiercely-determined woman. Never. (A few people actually clapped at my eventual success. I suspect I should have applied to Volkswagen for a grant at that point. I'd modeled each and every one of the car's many stowage and storage options in less than 15 minutes, and proven that the impossible could be done, if only you drove a Jetta! That has to be some sort of a record. And since it was in person, it was actually MORE EFFECTIVE than a TV ad. Man, I miss those butt-warmers!) Didn't even occur to me that buying a large, long, and unwieldy chair might not be a good idea when driving a compact car. And once the money's gone, there is no WAY whatever you bought is staying behind when you drive away!
Then there was the time my partner and I bought the king-sized bed frame and the two large bookshelves, among other treasures... we were driving his Jeep Cherokee for that one. We finally got everything loaded in, and then realized there was no room left for US! I ended up driving because I was shorter. Strangest reason to be picked to drive I've ever heard of... but you see, my head sort of fit under the bed frame, which was shoved precariously over the top of both front seats, and I could still sorta see out over the dashboard. I still don't know how my partner folded himself inside what was left of the passenger seat. At least we got all the doors and windows closed on that one! Come to think of it, everything we bought on that trip was bought to accommodate his 6'3" frame, and his 63 million books... and it all stayed with him after our divorce, too. He was just lucky to have me around, that's all! (There, you see? Another reason to love Ikea-- it helps me realize my own value!... riiiight.)
Well, on this trip, I only bought two small sets of shelves (much-needed!), and a ton of other little stuff. Things I could get into my car and then into my home without having to call for back-up. Plenty of room to spare in my nice roomy Honda CRV, too. And, now, plenty of empty space in my bank account. But, c'mon! Where else would you find stoneware spaghetti bowls for 59 cents?? And small pottery planters that were made with a hole so you could hang them up on a hook, out of the way, without the whole "swaying in the wind" of traditional hanging baskets... And... and... all that other random stuff I bought... What did I spend all that money on, again?
That's what I love about Ikea. There's always more stuff there that you really "need," and it's always available at a good price-- so long as you can haul it home yourself. That's also what I love about living several hours away from one of their stores these days. I can't casually stop by on a weekend anymore. Except, of course, for last weekend. Sigh.
Monday, January 1
Perspective is a Dirty Word
Even a murderer can be understood and forgiven if you have the right perspective on his or her activities. And yet, murder is SO WRONG! Don't lose perspective on THAT important point! Lawyers often get paid a lot of money to convince a jury or judge to look at things from his or her client's point of view-- and in Greek and Roman times, great orators convinced the populace to take their suggestions for right and wrong and make them community laws. Of course, talking in public spaces was a man's right, and in that society, any woman who argued her own point in public was shameless, and unfeminine, and could easily be labeled a whore or a harlot, worthy of no respect or consideration-- however convincing her argument might be.
Sound familiar?
I recently learned that my mom has no depth perception. She's made the comment my whole life-- that she has trouble with depth perception when driving... She says it's a bit like seeing the whole world as an impressionist painting. And suddenly, I could understand her perspective. I could even expand that description and apply it to so many other mysteries about my mom's interactions with the world and with me... and have them suddenly make sense! Have HER suddenly make sense! What a relief! I'm so unapproachable with people I can't understand-- and its awful when one of them is your mom. It certainly hasn't been nice for her, anyway.
Society doesn't often use the word "epiphany," but you can always tell when someone has had one-- they say "OOOooohhhh!" Or they exclaim "OH!", and pause completely in whatever they are doing for a full two seconds, before remembering again that they are driving or cooking or reading or carrying on a conversation. There it was. That was the moment. Epiphany.
On New Years weekend, I returned a favor, and helped my parents move my aunt into a new house that was much closer to her work, and to our family. She'd put most of her stuff into a storage unit near my folks while she searched for a good place to rent, so everything was already neatly boxed. It had taken one LARGE moving van to get her life into that storage unit. She was renting two movers and their large moving van to get her out of storage again, and into the house she'd found in the new town. My folks and I were going along to help her unpack and rearrange the heavy stuff. Since I live about two hours from my folks, and three from Aunt's new place, my parents decided to drive the three of us from their house, and save on gas.
I arrived at 10:30am sharp, as directed, ready to work. Turns out, my folks weren't ready to work yet. Or drive. About 12:30pm, we all got into their car, and headed downtown. Turns out there were some errands to run before we left for Aunt's new place. I started glancing around, surreptitiously looking for the filming crew. This HAD to be another episode for the sitcom of my life. It was too ridiculous NOT to be! After 20 minutes of watching my folks try and decide what kind of bread to buy at the local bakery, and then wonder if they should get a second loaf of a different kind, and what kind would that be?... I was ready to kill something. It was 1pm, and we were still a good 90 minutes away from actually being helpful to my Aunt's move. WHY did I have to get up at 7am on Saturday?? WHY didn't I bring a stronger headache medicine, or at least a hard-backed book to hit myself over the head with??
About then, Papa's cell phone rang. It was Aunt. The moving van was full, and there were still some boxes in her storage unit. Could we bring all our vehicles and get over there to take the last of it? The movers were on an hourly rate. Their truck was two feet shorter than the one she'd used before. Wow. I guess its good my parents were running three hours behind. We ran one last errand, drove the 20 minutes back to their house, unloaded my travel gear from my CRV, and then went back into town to Aunt's storage unit. Mom rode with me, since I didn't know where we were going, and Papa was taking the truck.
"It's along here on the left, right next to a big sign." Three miles later, there it was. On the left. Just like mom said. We loaded up, which was itself pretty funny. The movers pack trucks and vehicles every day. They are good at getting the most stuff into the smallest spaces. Its their JOB. But Papa and Aunt (and I have to admit, me as well) are very aware of their ability to pack a lot of stuff into a small space well. You should see how much stuff can come out of one closet in my folks' house! It's like Christmas at Grandma's, only without the wrapping paper. (I think that's actually a box of used bows down on the left, behind the sewing machine, though.)
Finally, the person who could yell their idea the loudest got to decide what box and which rocking chair went in what vehicle. It wasn't me. I'd stopped contributing when I saw the movers begin to resemble deer in the headlights of an oncoming semi. I know that pinched wide-eyed look. I had it every day in math class for years.
Then we all caravanned down to Aunt's new place, about an hour away. Well, Aunt and the movers caravanned. Mom rode with me. A whole hour to chat with mom and take her driving directions. Oh, and her driving glasses had ended up in Papa's truck when we repacked everything... so she couldn't actually SEE where we were going in order to give directions... Lucky me. There just HAD to be a camera rolling here somewhere. Papa drove on ahead, and missed the exit. He ended up getting there about ten minutes after everyone else. It was about 3pm when we started unloading everything at Aunt's.
If you've ever moved into a new place or out of an old one, on a deadline, you know how much can go wrong. It helped that Aunt had labeled most of the boxes. "Library" went into the blue bedroom. "Office" went into the yellow bedroom, unless she actually wanted it in the blue room for now. "Files," "Books," "Notebooks," "Computer Supplies," and "Miscellaneous" boxes had to be sorted by Aunt into either the blue or yellow bedroom on an individual basis. The bed frame didn't fit through the bedroom door. They had to find a saw. That one didn't cut straight, so they had to find a different saw. Then mom and I had to hold the bed frame still while Papa stood on a ladder, hit his head on the ceiling fan a few times, and sawed off three inches at the head of the bed frame. He did it in the kitchen, so nobody would have to walk through the sawdust with boxes-- at least, that's what I think he meant when he said it would be easier to clean up in there. The kitchen has the same flooring as the living and dining rooms, so it was either that, or he knew mom or I would be more likely to take responsibility for cleaning a mess in the kitchen. I'd stopped asking questions (and looking for hidden cameras) at that point in the afternoon. I didn't want to know anymore.
Turns out, the bed frame was about five inches longer than the mattress anyway, so sawing off those three inches actually made it fit better on a variety of levels. Ahh the happy accidents of moving day! The movers did a GREAT job. I mean it. They calmly carried boxes from room to room as Aunt changed her mind about where she wanted them. They hauled the heavy awkward bed frame down the hall and tried it in the bedroom doorway three times, and WITHOUT scraping the walls. They accepted her decision to relocate the piano with a smile. They even laughed with me at my attempts to stand somewhere that might actually be OUT OF THE WAY while all the heavy stuff was carried hither and yon and back again. Around five thirty, the truck was empty. Aunt paid the movers, and they trundled away with their truck. Then we started helping her to unpack. Unpack? Yeah. The real reason we were there with her in her new house today, remember? To help Aunt unpack a bit. And rearrange the living room. Novocaine anyone?
I made my suggestions for the living room arrangement (loudly so I could be heard over all the other suggestions), and then put myself in charge of the kitchen boxes and the pile of sawdust. You can live without having your table lamps on the right tables for a few days, but you can't live without silverware and cups and pans. They moved the TV unit twice, and then took a break to eat the lunch we'd packed along with us at 12:3o when we first left my parents' house. It was 6pm. Eventually, I discovered that they'd settled on the living room arrangement that I'd first suggested, and were now trying to make the TV work. It was getting close to 7pm, and I had a three-hour drive ahead of me. We spent another five or ten minutes figuring out what light switches turned off what lights, and then headed back to my folks' place. Mom rode with me, since it was now dark, and we were taking a different route from Aunt's to my folks' than we did from the Storage Unit to Aunt's. Sigh. At least this time, she had her glasses. And she bought me a full tank of gas. There's a lot to like about someone who buys a full tank of gas for a car they don't even drive.
It was on this tired, dirty, and quiet drive that mom told me about the impressionist paintings, and epiphany struck. OH! She really doesn't know how deeply I feel something at times, because she really doesn't have depth perception! ... because now I understand she doesn't have a choice about her perspective, and I do. She just needs more information handed to her than the average driver. OH! Two second pause. Oops-- I'm supposed to be driving. Right. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive, honey?" I'm sure. Very sure. But I like your company, Mom.
It's all about understanding someone else's perspective. And appreciating what you see.
Sound familiar?
I recently learned that my mom has no depth perception. She's made the comment my whole life-- that she has trouble with depth perception when driving... She says it's a bit like seeing the whole world as an impressionist painting. And suddenly, I could understand her perspective. I could even expand that description and apply it to so many other mysteries about my mom's interactions with the world and with me... and have them suddenly make sense! Have HER suddenly make sense! What a relief! I'm so unapproachable with people I can't understand-- and its awful when one of them is your mom. It certainly hasn't been nice for her, anyway.
Society doesn't often use the word "epiphany," but you can always tell when someone has had one-- they say "OOOooohhhh!" Or they exclaim "OH!", and pause completely in whatever they are doing for a full two seconds, before remembering again that they are driving or cooking or reading or carrying on a conversation. There it was. That was the moment. Epiphany.
On New Years weekend, I returned a favor, and helped my parents move my aunt into a new house that was much closer to her work, and to our family. She'd put most of her stuff into a storage unit near my folks while she searched for a good place to rent, so everything was already neatly boxed. It had taken one LARGE moving van to get her life into that storage unit. She was renting two movers and their large moving van to get her out of storage again, and into the house she'd found in the new town. My folks and I were going along to help her unpack and rearrange the heavy stuff. Since I live about two hours from my folks, and three from Aunt's new place, my parents decided to drive the three of us from their house, and save on gas.
I arrived at 10:30am sharp, as directed, ready to work. Turns out, my folks weren't ready to work yet. Or drive. About 12:30pm, we all got into their car, and headed downtown. Turns out there were some errands to run before we left for Aunt's new place. I started glancing around, surreptitiously looking for the filming crew. This HAD to be another episode for the sitcom of my life. It was too ridiculous NOT to be! After 20 minutes of watching my folks try and decide what kind of bread to buy at the local bakery, and then wonder if they should get a second loaf of a different kind, and what kind would that be?... I was ready to kill something. It was 1pm, and we were still a good 90 minutes away from actually being helpful to my Aunt's move. WHY did I have to get up at 7am on Saturday?? WHY didn't I bring a stronger headache medicine, or at least a hard-backed book to hit myself over the head with??
About then, Papa's cell phone rang. It was Aunt. The moving van was full, and there were still some boxes in her storage unit. Could we bring all our vehicles and get over there to take the last of it? The movers were on an hourly rate. Their truck was two feet shorter than the one she'd used before. Wow. I guess its good my parents were running three hours behind. We ran one last errand, drove the 20 minutes back to their house, unloaded my travel gear from my CRV, and then went back into town to Aunt's storage unit. Mom rode with me, since I didn't know where we were going, and Papa was taking the truck.
"It's along here on the left, right next to a big sign." Three miles later, there it was. On the left. Just like mom said. We loaded up, which was itself pretty funny. The movers pack trucks and vehicles every day. They are good at getting the most stuff into the smallest spaces. Its their JOB. But Papa and Aunt (and I have to admit, me as well) are very aware of their ability to pack a lot of stuff into a small space well. You should see how much stuff can come out of one closet in my folks' house! It's like Christmas at Grandma's, only without the wrapping paper. (I think that's actually a box of used bows down on the left, behind the sewing machine, though.)
Finally, the person who could yell their idea the loudest got to decide what box and which rocking chair went in what vehicle. It wasn't me. I'd stopped contributing when I saw the movers begin to resemble deer in the headlights of an oncoming semi. I know that pinched wide-eyed look. I had it every day in math class for years.
Then we all caravanned down to Aunt's new place, about an hour away. Well, Aunt and the movers caravanned. Mom rode with me. A whole hour to chat with mom and take her driving directions. Oh, and her driving glasses had ended up in Papa's truck when we repacked everything... so she couldn't actually SEE where we were going in order to give directions... Lucky me. There just HAD to be a camera rolling here somewhere. Papa drove on ahead, and missed the exit. He ended up getting there about ten minutes after everyone else. It was about 3pm when we started unloading everything at Aunt's.
If you've ever moved into a new place or out of an old one, on a deadline, you know how much can go wrong. It helped that Aunt had labeled most of the boxes. "Library" went into the blue bedroom. "Office" went into the yellow bedroom, unless she actually wanted it in the blue room for now. "Files," "Books," "Notebooks," "Computer Supplies," and "Miscellaneous" boxes had to be sorted by Aunt into either the blue or yellow bedroom on an individual basis. The bed frame didn't fit through the bedroom door. They had to find a saw. That one didn't cut straight, so they had to find a different saw. Then mom and I had to hold the bed frame still while Papa stood on a ladder, hit his head on the ceiling fan a few times, and sawed off three inches at the head of the bed frame. He did it in the kitchen, so nobody would have to walk through the sawdust with boxes-- at least, that's what I think he meant when he said it would be easier to clean up in there. The kitchen has the same flooring as the living and dining rooms, so it was either that, or he knew mom or I would be more likely to take responsibility for cleaning a mess in the kitchen. I'd stopped asking questions (and looking for hidden cameras) at that point in the afternoon. I didn't want to know anymore.
Turns out, the bed frame was about five inches longer than the mattress anyway, so sawing off those three inches actually made it fit better on a variety of levels. Ahh the happy accidents of moving day! The movers did a GREAT job. I mean it. They calmly carried boxes from room to room as Aunt changed her mind about where she wanted them. They hauled the heavy awkward bed frame down the hall and tried it in the bedroom doorway three times, and WITHOUT scraping the walls. They accepted her decision to relocate the piano with a smile. They even laughed with me at my attempts to stand somewhere that might actually be OUT OF THE WAY while all the heavy stuff was carried hither and yon and back again. Around five thirty, the truck was empty. Aunt paid the movers, and they trundled away with their truck. Then we started helping her to unpack. Unpack? Yeah. The real reason we were there with her in her new house today, remember? To help Aunt unpack a bit. And rearrange the living room. Novocaine anyone?
I made my suggestions for the living room arrangement (loudly so I could be heard over all the other suggestions), and then put myself in charge of the kitchen boxes and the pile of sawdust. You can live without having your table lamps on the right tables for a few days, but you can't live without silverware and cups and pans. They moved the TV unit twice, and then took a break to eat the lunch we'd packed along with us at 12:3o when we first left my parents' house. It was 6pm. Eventually, I discovered that they'd settled on the living room arrangement that I'd first suggested, and were now trying to make the TV work. It was getting close to 7pm, and I had a three-hour drive ahead of me. We spent another five or ten minutes figuring out what light switches turned off what lights, and then headed back to my folks' place. Mom rode with me, since it was now dark, and we were taking a different route from Aunt's to my folks' than we did from the Storage Unit to Aunt's. Sigh. At least this time, she had her glasses. And she bought me a full tank of gas. There's a lot to like about someone who buys a full tank of gas for a car they don't even drive.
It was on this tired, dirty, and quiet drive that mom told me about the impressionist paintings, and epiphany struck. OH! She really doesn't know how deeply I feel something at times, because she really doesn't have depth perception! ... because now I understand she doesn't have a choice about her perspective, and I do. She just needs more information handed to her than the average driver. OH! Two second pause. Oops-- I'm supposed to be driving. Right. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive, honey?" I'm sure. Very sure. But I like your company, Mom.
It's all about understanding someone else's perspective. And appreciating what you see.
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